Chapter 1: Frozen Sister

It was common that among the people who came into the store were professional musicians. They would work solo or in groups at various places for money. I would hear them talk about their life playing music, the problems they had and the struggle to find any amount of fame that would give them a crack at "the big time." I knew some of them were quite talented and deserved a break, but here in Spokane, that wasn't very likely.

One afternoon, I was approached by a regular in the store, Stan Foxwell, who I knew fronted a band. They played middle-of-the-road music at clubs and private parties.

"Hey, Fox, how can I help you?"

"You know anyone who can play keyboards? Rollie is sick and I need a fill-in."

"What's the gig?" I asked.

"Starlight Club, Friday and Saturday night."

"I can do that," I said, not sure it was the smartest thing I could say.

"You can? Great. You read music?"

"Yeah ... can you give me a play list and sheets beforehand?"

"Sure. We can supply the board. Rollie leaves it with us."

"Perfect. Otherwise I'd have to bring mine."

"Thanks, Ed. That's great. You really got me out of a hole."

"See you Friday. What time?"

"Seven at the Starlight is plenty early."

We shook hands and I watched him head out in a much better mood than when he had arrived. Stan Foxwell was a good guy and a loyal customer. His band consisted of Stan on drums, two guitar players, one of whom was very good, the aforementioned keyboard player, and a fifth man who played both bass and fiddle. The music was mostly middle-of-the-road tunes from the past; ones that people would easily recognize. Bud and Al, the two guitar players, were the voices. They were capable enough, but stuck to tunes they could handle. It was pretty much a prototypical tavern/club band.

This wasn't something new for me. I wasn't into heavy metal or hard rock, but the rest I could manage. Even country, if necessary ... and in Spokane, it was often necessary. I'd pick up a few bucks that would go unreported, and have something to do on the weekend. I'd once thought about a regular gig (they were available) but so far I'd decided I liked my freedom and didn't want to get tied down.

Friday night got cold in a hurry. The temperature was in the low twenties and still dropping while the wind had picked up. As I drove toward the Starlight Lounge, the engine began coughing. I checked the gas gauge and saw I had at least half a tank. The cough and engine miss got worse and finally I had to pull over to the curb and park it. I was no mechanic and had no idea what had caused the problem. Resigned to walking the six or seven blocks to the lounge, I locked the car and began my trek.

This part of town wasn't the best area of Spokane by any means. Older buildings, many abandoned businesses, and generally a less-than-desirable neighborhood. I pulled up my collar, pulled my hat down over my forehead and started to march towards my destination.

About three blocks from the Starlight was a group of old brick apartments and as I approached them, I saw a figure sitting on the steps of one of the buildings. From a distance I couldn't tell who it was, but it was hunched over, almost into an upright fetal position. I guessed it was to ward off the cold and as I got closer, I was pretty sure I was right. I could almost hear the person shivering.

A few steps further and I was sure it was a woman and she was hardly dressed for this weather. I considered walking by, but the words of my grandmother rang in my head: "Don't you dare."

"Miss ... can I help you?" I asked as I stood at the bottom of the steps.

"Ddddooo yyyyuh haaaaf anyyy muhney? I hhhaaaaf nnnnun."

"Sure, but where do you live? You can't stay out here dressed like that."

"Nooowhere. Nooo hooome," she answered, still not looking up at me.

"Look, I'm on my way to work. Why don't you come with me and you can warm up there. When I'm done, we'll find a place for you to stay. You can't stay outside tonight. You'll freeze to death."

She didn't answer right away, but slowly, achingly slowly, she began to rise. I walked to her and took her arm. She attempted to pull away from me, but when she almost stumbled down the three steps to the sidewalk, she decided I was the safer option.

"Let's go. It's getting colder. Here ... take my gloves and scarf. We haven't got far to go and we need to hurry."

She hadn't spoken a word since her chattering request for money, but her eyes said thank you as she finally looked at my face. I suppose she might have been worried about my intentions, but in this weather, I wasn't likely to make a move on her out here. I turned and began to walk and she slowly followed me, a few paces behind. She had the scarf wrapped around her face and head so that only her eyes were revealed.

The three blocks we walked seemed to take forever, but gradually we made it to the service entrance to the lounge. She balked momentarily when she saw the name on the door.

"Don't worry. I'm a musician and I'm working here tonight. You can stay backstage and warm up while I work. You'll be perfectly safe here."

She looked doubtful, but finally entered the lounge ahead of me. I could immediately feel the warm air and realized my face and hands were nearly frozen. I hoped they would thaw out in time for my session. I didn't need frostbite to add to my problems.

"Hey, Ed, who's your friend?" Fox asked as we walked toward the dressing area.

"Don't know. I found her on the street damn near frozen to death. Brought her over here to warm up. Maybe when she does I can find out more about her," I smiled as a looked back at her.

She removed the scarf and gloves and handed them to me. She was blue with cold and I wondered if she wasn't on the verge of hypothermia.

"Thhhank yyyou," she said.

For the first time I had a good look at her. Attractive, but looking very forlorn and worn out, she appeared to be in her twenties, about five-six, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and very slim. I wondered when she'd had her last meal.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

She nodded, "Yyyyeah, bbbbut I ddddon't haaave any mmmmoney."

"That's okay. I'll get something from the kitchen for you. A burger and fries work for you?"

"Wwwhy are you dddoing this?" she asked, her voice now beginning to sound closer to what I assumed to be normal.

"My grandmother wouldn't allow me not to. She believed that people who need help should be helped. You need help and I take it as my responsibility."

She looked at me intently, searching for something.

"That guy cccalled you Ed."

"Uh huh. Edward Murchie. And your name is?"

"FFFrances Cryder."

"So ... a burger and fries? Maybe a coffee, too?"

She nodded. "Thththank you, Ed." She was still shivering, but not as violently as before.

"Sure. I'll be back in a minute. I've got to go to work soon."

I headed for the kitchen to place an order, asking for it to be delivered to the dressing room. I paid in advance and left a decent tip as well.

"Your food will be along shortly," I told her when I returned. "I've got to get organized. I'll come and see how you are at our first break."

"What ddddo you play?"

"Keyboards. I'm a fill-in for a sick guy. It's my first time working with Fox, but he's a good guy and I don't mind helping out."

"Okkkay ... and thththanks again, Ed."

"You're welcome," I smiled, heading for the setup and my place on stage.

When we finished our first set, I went back to see how Frances was and found her on the floor, curled up in a corner and fast asleep. The plate and coffee cup were empty, so I knew she'd eaten. She looked comfortable enough, so I left her where she was. She probably needed the rest. I could talk to her later. First, I had to cage a ride home.

"Fox, can I get a ride to my place with you or one of your guys? My car crapped out on the way here."

"Sure, Ed. I can do that for you. What about your lady friend?"

"I dunno. She doesn't have anywhere to stay, so I'll probably take her with me. I don't think she had a thing to her name. I'll know better when I get a chance to talk to her."

Fox shrugged. "Okay, Ed. It's your call. By the way, I'm really glad you volunteered this weekend. You fit in really well with the guys. You can sub for me anytime."

"Thanks," I nodded. "Glad to be of help."

We ran through three sets and Fox once again told me how happy he was with my efforts. He gave me $250 in small bills and told me he'd see me tomorrow night, same time, same place. That was more than I expected, but I was happy to have the extra cash. I might need it to help Frances if appearances were anything to go by.

"Well, Grandma, I hope you're happy. I've done my good deed for the day," I said to no one in particular.

I woke Frances and told her Fox was driving us to my place where she could stay for the night. We'd talk about what came after that in the morning. I think she was too tired to argue and obligingly came along with us. What choice did she have?

We passed where I left my car and I noticed it was gone. Great! Towed or stolen? No way to tell and it was too late for me to find out. Not the perfect ending to a perfect day. I wondered if the $250 was enough to get it out of the compound if it was towed. Frances didn't need another thing to worry about, so I said nothing to her. No good deed goes unpunished, as the saying goes.

I moved a couple of things around in the music room and showed her the single bed, already made up with clean sheets. You never know who might drop in, was my grandmother's motto. What Frances didn't have was clean clothes or underwear. I gave her a t-shirt and a robe, suggesting she wash out her underwear and it could dry in the bathroom. I also had a new toothbrush and gave her that along with a toothpaste sampler I had purloined from somewhere. She smiled for the first time and thanked me once more. She looked dead on her feet. No surprise, it was almost two in the morning. I told her that coffee would be on by seven in the morning and that we'd find something for breakfast then. I wasn't working that Saturday. It was my alternate Saturday off. I set the timer on the coffee machine and went to my bedroom. I was almost as tired as Frances.

I slept the sleep of the just and woke just before eight that morning. I could hear someone moving around and I guessed that Frances was up and probably looking for something to eat. I normally took a shower, shaved and dressed before making a formal appearance. Today, I just combed my hair and dressed, leaving the rest for later.

"Good morning," I said as I entered the kitchen.

"Hi. I helped myself to some cereal and an orange. I hope you don't mind."

"No ... not at all. How are you feeling? Did you get enough sleep?"

"Yes. I feel much better than I did before you found me. I want to thank you for your kindness. I wish I could promise to pay you back, but I'm not sure I could keep that promise."

"I understand. First things first. Do you have any other clothes or personal items?"

She shook her head. "No ... they were stolen. I thought I had them hidden, but someone must have found them."

"Well, that makes us two of a kind, then. I'm pretty sure my car was stolen last night. I doubt the city would have towed it. How they got it running I don't know, but it's gone. I'll have to make a few phone calls and get my insurance guy working on it. In the meantime, I'm not short of cash, so we can get you some necessary things to tide you over and you can continue to use my place to live until you get a better option."

"I was going to refuse, you know. I knew you would tell me to stay and I should say no. But ... I have nowhere else to go. The last thing I thought I was going to be doing was staying with a guy I didn't know and sleeping in the same apartment. I trust you, Ed. I have no idea why. Maybe because of what you said about your grandmother. Please don't disappoint me. I couldn't handle that right now."

"You're safe here, Frances. I won't do anything to spoil that for you. I don't mind having a roommate, but it's strictly a temporary situation."

"Thank you again, Ed. Most of the people who know me call me Fran."

I nodded. "Sure. Now, let's talk about what needs to be done first. I've got to check in with the police on the off chance that my car was towed. If it was stolen, I'll have to fill out a report. Then my insurance agent. I think I have a "loss of use" rider that will cover a rental, so we won't be completely without transportation. Then we can head out to our local friendly big box store for some essential supplies for you. In the meantime, there's enough food in the place to last us for the weekend, so we'll be okay until Monday."

"You've got it all planned out, eh?" she smiled faintly.

"Well, some of it, anyway. You weren't in the original plan, so I'm improvising."

I poured myself a second cup of coffee and sat once more at the kitchen table.

"Tell me about how you got into this mess, Fran."

"I'm not from Spokane. I live ... lived ... in Harman at my parents' house. I got into a big argument with them a few days ago and the result of it all was they kicked me out of the house, telling me they disowned me."

"Why?" I asked, bewildered why her parents would do such a terrible thing.

"I'd rather not say. It was a difference of opinion about my lifestyle."

I sighed. "Okay, I won't pry. But that's a pretty harsh sentence for someone as young as you."

I could see a tear or two forming, but Fran didn't say any more, so I obeyed her wishes and let the subject drop.

"What brought you to Spokane?" I asked.

"I had a girlfriend in school that I was close to. She moved here and I thought I'd hook up with her and stay with her until I figured out what I was going to do. I don't have a job and I don't have very much to offer an employer, so I was really in a pretty poor situation. When I got here, I couldn't find her. She wasn't in the phone book, so I was in real trouble. I was miles from a home I couldn't return to, and I knew no one here in the big city. There wasn't any room at the only homeless shelter I could find, so I was forced out on the street to fend for myself. Lots of real nice people out there, you know," she said with sour note.

"So, when my things got stolen, I thought maybe it was all over for me. I thought I was going to die last night. There was no one who was going to save me this time. I was out of luck."

"Do you believe in fate?" I asked her.

"Fate? You mean, like destiny ... or something like that?"

"Yes."

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"Consider this, then. What caused my car to die just a couple of blocks from where you were sitting? It was only a coincidence that I was going to be working that evening. Normally, I would have been at home. If the car hadn't died, I'd probably not have noticed you as I drove past. But it did die, and I did notice you, and I did stop and help you. What do you say to that?"

"I don't know. You think it's destiny?"

"I don't know either. But I do believe things happen for a reason. I'm no one special. My last girlfriend left because she didn't think I was likely to succeed in this lifetime. She had higher ambitions for her chosen mate. I didn't cut it. Clerks in music stores usually don't rise to dizzying heights," I chuckled.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you're not a good person. You proved that last night."

"Is that enough? Being a good person?" I wondered.

"I think so," she said, smiling at me. "This world needs a few more good people."

"I won't argue with that, Fran."

Once I established that my car was not in the impound lot, I filed a stolen car report. When I handed over the report to the officer, he looked at it and shook his head. "Another one. You know, Saturn is the most frequently stolen car in the U.S. I recommend you try another brand if this one doesn't turn up."

"Thanks for the advice. Better late than never," I said, turning with a sigh and looking at my insurance agent's phone number.

I called him and gave him the file number for the stolen Saturn and he confirmed that my insurance included loss of use. I went to the nearest rental car agency and chose a compact sedan. Nothing fancy, just plain, utilitarian transportation—in this case a new 2013 Ford Focus. I headed back to my apartment and collected Fran for our shopping trip. She seemed to be in good spirits and the tension that might have existed had disappeared. I was also wondering if there was the possibility of our developing a relationship. She was certainly attractive, and with a few more pounds on her bones she'd be a stunner. She was almost my height, and her auburn hair fell below her shoulders. Brown eyes and a lovely, warm face that gave off an aura of elegance. She was very attractive.

Oh well, those were just the idle thoughts of sex-starved twenty-six-year-old.

We were back to the apartment by five o'clock, having completed our shopping for both clothing and food. Fran appeared to be quite pensive, but not yet sharing her thoughts with me. I'd wait. There was no rush to push her in a direction she didn't want to go.